Goodbye
by Nixi Stasia
Summary: First in a series. 'Here lies Claire Foley-Layton, 15.04.1928-16.10.1955, Loving Wife, Mother and Friend, May She Be One Day Reunited With Her Loved Ones'
1. My Immortal

**AN: Hello, my dear readers! **

**I hope you enjoy this story and the rest of Lilly's stories! The next Lilly story summary is up on my profile now, so you can check that out, if you want! Or if you want more Lilly now, check out 'Lillyesque' which is a collection of one-shots about Lilly! **

**This story is going to be sad, but meaningful! Please review! **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Professor Layton, but I am still writing fanmail to Level-5... They still haven't replied. Oh, I do own Lilly though! ;)**

**Song for this chapter: My Immortal by Evanescence**

Goodbye

Chapter One, My Immortal

It was a quiet night, in Aberville Road. The only sounds to be heard were the blurry buzzes from a television or a radio and the whistle of the wind flying through the trees, which all stood along the road. The houses and blocks of flats were all hidden away, by the trees, like an urban jungle. In one of the blocks of flats, on the fourth floor, third window along, sat a little girl at her windowsill. The little girl peered through the branches of the trees and looked up at the night sky and upon the stars.

"Please, Mummy, come home," the little girl whispered, up at the sky.

Nothing happens. Not even the wind replies, not even a star twinkles in reply. There's nothing. A small tear runs down the girls pale cheek, for the hundredth time that day. All she wants is to see her Mother again, just one more time. She wants to run into her Mother's arms and stay there forever. Maybe even go away with her, to wherever she's had to go? Her Father said that her Mother had gone to heaven and that one day, the girl would see her Mother again. But the girl didn't want one day, she wanted now.

If she closed her eyes, she could remember her Mother's face. Her wavy, auburn hair that was always scraped into a ponytail, her blue eyes that twinkled like the starts and seemed to smile more than her lips and the kind expression, which was always there; even when she was upset or cross. If the girl closed her eyes even tighter, she could remember more about her Mother. Her sweet, warm smell, the beautiful, loving sound of her caring voice, her high-pitched chuckle. Why did she have to go?

The girl let another tear fall, as she gazed up upon the world around her, which now seemed so different. Her Mother had gone and she wouldn't come back. No matter what the girl did, she still didn't return. What had the girl done? Had she upset her Mother so badly, that she had decided to run away and abandon her? It was the only thing the girl could think of that would've caused her Mother to leave her, without even a goodbye.

The wind blew and the girl's long, brown hair cascaded around her heart-shaped face and more tears began to fall from her blue eyes, which she'd inherited from her Mother. Now everytime she even looked in the mirror she was reminded of her Mother and all the guilt would come crashing down on her. It was all her fault that her Mother had left. She wasn't the daughter her Mother had wanted and therefore, her Mother had gone. She was disappointed in her daughter; she didn't want her.

"Please, Mummy, come back, I'm sorry," the little girl begged the stars. Only none of them listened and nothing happened at all," Please, Mummy. I miss you. I promise I'll be good, I'll be good at school, I'll learn how to do the work, I'll be good. I promise, just please, come back!"

Tears fell faster and faster, but it was no use. No matter how hard she cried, how hard she begged, how hard she pleaded she wouldn't come back.

Drowning in grief- and her own tears- the girl ran over to her bed and threw the linen sheets over herself. After a while, the girl hadn't taken notice of the time since her Mother left, the girl fell asleep. Away in her dreams, the dreams of her Mother, who had gone forever.

The Week Before

"Lillian, go to bed," the woman with auburn hair snapped at her daughter.

The little girl cowered into the corner of the living room, refusing to do as she was told. The woman's face turned to a hard stone as she frowned at her daughter. The girl looked away and burrowed her face in her hands, occasionally peeking up to see if her Mother was still watching; which she was. Lillian let out a small whimper and huddled further into the corner of the room.

"Lillian, I'm going to count to three and if by the time I finish and you're not in bed, there will be trouble," the woman explained, sternly.

The girl didn't look up this time, she could feel her Mother's eyes on her. She could also feel the anger in her voice. If she didn't go to bed, there would be trouble and lots of it. Admitting defeat, the girl slowly backed away from the wall.

"One..."

Sheepishly, the girl left the living room door and went out into the hallway of the flat, with her Mother behind her.

"Two..."

Knowing she didn't have much time left, Lillian darted across the hall and flew the door to her bedroom open. She ran across the room and jumped into her bed. The door creaked, as her Mother opened it, to peer in. The light from the hallway flooded in and Lillian closed her eyes as tight as she could.

"Goodnight, Lillian. See you in the morning."

**AN: Oh, poor Lillian! It's not her fault her Mother's gone, it's Bill Hawks' fault! **

**Please review, it will make my day!**

**Anastasia. D X**


	2. Paradise

**AN: Whoo, whoo! An update!**

**Remember, if you read: REVIEW! Thanks :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Song for this chapter: Paradise by Coldplay (that song actually fits this chapter somehow... Maybe it's just me?)**

Chapter Two, Paradise

"Where's Mummy gone?" Lillian asked her Father, looking up at him with her big blue eyes.

Her Father sat at the table, in the joint dining room and living room, staring mournfully into his cup of tea- which had now gone cold- whilst stirring the beige liquid round and round. His hair was ruffled carelessly and looked as if it hadn't been washed for over a week. His red waistcoat was undone and had lost the bottom button and the white shirt underneath the waistcoat, had a tea stain across the chest. The sight of her Father like this certainly did frighten Lillian.

"Well... Uh, she's in heaven, dear," her Father explained.

"Where's heaven?" Lillian asked.

The man forced a smile at his daughter- his only joy now left- and patted his lap, signalling for her to come and sit with him. The girl nodded and clambered onto her Father's lap.

"Heaven is where you go after you die," the man began, slowly.

Death was a hard subject to explain to an innocent six year old girl. But now after what she'd been through in the past fortnight, it was a subject needed to be discussed. The girl had been through so much, yet, she didn't understand any of it. The man knew very well how confused his daughter was at the matter. She didn't understand that her Mother couldn't come back and she didn't understand what death was. Her obliviousness to the situation was adorable, but worrying at the same time. Not 'worrying' in the sense that she should know about death, but worrying in the sense that she had no idea what was going on. The entire course of Lillian's life had been changed in a split second and she thought it was her fault.

"What's 'die'?" Lillian asked, unaware of the grammatical error in her sentence.

"It's erm... it's..." the man struggled to find a way to describe it to his daughter. How could he tell her that her Mother (his wife) had gone forever. How could a girl as young as her, take it in and understand the concept of death. He couldn't scar his daughter like that so early in life, her life had already changed so much. He didn't need to add to her grief.

"Come on, Lillian," a woman said, coming into the dining room, after standing by the door and listening in on the conversation," Time to go to school, love."

The young girl turned around and watched her Godmother enter the room. She was fully dressed and looked ready for the day. Now that Lillian's Mother had gone, her Godmother was the only female role-model figure that she had. The woman's smile wasn't as welcoming as Lillian's Mother's had been, but it was something; and the only smile that the household had been given since the tragic day.

"Do I have to?" Lillian complained.

"Yes, sweetie," her Godmother replied softly, realising that the girl was still in her nightgown," Go and get dressed. And be quick; you don't want to be late."

Lillian sighed, but got down off of her Father's lap and left for her bedroom, which lay across the hallway. The woman smiled at her as she left the room, but once she was gone she turned to the man and frowned.

"Hershel, you can't go on like this," she said, softer than she spoke to Lillian.

The man turned around and faced his best friend's wife.

"I know, but what do you expect me to do?" the man asked, a taste of bitterness echoed throughout his voice.

"Let us help you. Clark and me, we're here for you and Lillian. You need space to grieve and right now, you're not in a fit state to look after Lillian," Brenda explained.

"I'm her Father, Brenda; I'm the only thing she has left. What else can I do?" Hershel replied through gritted teeth.

"No, she isn't the only thing you have left and you aren't the only thing she has left. Both of you have Clark and me, even little Luke feels upset and wants to help, and he's barely three!" Brenda cried quietly," People want to help, Hershel. And you need it. You're not doing Lillian any favours by letting her see you like this. She's already lost her Mother and seeing you this way is upsetting her more."

"Lillian needs her Father."

"Exactly. And right now you can't be her Father, not in this state."

"Oh, and you're lecturing me on parenting when you're making Lillian go to school when she's just lost her Mother?!" Hershel exclaimed, his voice growing louder whilst Brenda stayed calm.

"She needs routine, Hershel. Or some type of distraction. Keeping her locked home each day is just going to reminding her that her Mother's gone."

"Don't you think I know that!" Hershel yelled," Don't you think I know that Lillian's life has been turned upside down!"

Brenda jumped back in shock, at her friend's sudden outburst. However, she kept content and replied with a sympathetic smile.

"Hershel, I know how you feel. I miss Claire too, but Lillian needs you. You need to stay strong for her. If you really can't, then please, let us help. Lillian can come and stay with us for a week or so. It will do her good to get a change of scenery and it'll do you good, because whilst you're grieving over Claire, Lillian's just reminding you of her."

Knowing that Brenda was right, he sat back down and sighed. Just then, Lilly came back into the room, dressed in a crumpled blouse and a skirt, which had a mud stain around the edges.

"I'm ready," Lillian whispered, shyly, sensing the upsetting atmosphere in the room.

"Oh, don't you have any other pieces of uniform? Maybe some that are cleaner?" Brenda asked her God-daughter, bending down to her height.

"No," Lillian answered, shaking her head," These were the only ones I could find."

"Oh," Brenda smiled, weakly, staring at Hershel and shaking her head. He wasn't looking at the other people in the room," Never mind, then. Come on, sweetie."

"Is Mummy going to pick me up from school today?" Lillian asked, her voice full of hope.

The two adults turned to face each other and the woman frowned. The man shook his head.

"No, love, she isn't," Brenda said, forcing another smile.

"Oh," Lillian said, simply. Her mouth curved into a 'o' shape as she spoke and even after she finished, her mouth stayed in the same shape. For a second, the girl looked like a porcelain doll, only without the pink cheeks and the posh clothes. It was her eyes, the way they froze, not moving or blinking, just gazing into the empty air.

After a quick goodbye to her Father, the young brunette was lead out of the flat by the hand of her Godmother. The two left the building and went into the black car. As Brenda drove to Gressenheller primary school, she watched the girl in the rear view mirror. Looking at the girl, she felt pity for her. Not knowing what it felt to lose a parent, Brenda could offer no empathy for her, however, she could pity her. And she would make sure that the girl would grow up to have a stable life, after all, her job as her Godparent was to protect Lillian when her Mother could not. And after the accident at her Claire's work place, Brenda's job had began- if it had not already.

Two Weeks before

"Lillian, can you get dressed please, poppet?" The young girl heard her Mother call from the kitchen, which was through the walls of her bedroom.

Obediently, the young girl picked up a freshly cleaned blouse, out of the pile of clothes that her Mother had put there the night before and put it on. She found some navy tights in her drawer and pulled them over her legs, before placing on a grey dress, with a neatly pleated skirt. Quickly, she pulled her hairbrush through her thick, wavy, chocolate curls, then left her bedroom and ran into the kitchen.

"I'm ready!" the young girl told her Mother, beaming proudly.

"Good girl," her Mother smiled, placing a plate of toast on the counter," Sit down and eat your breakfast. Be careful; I may not have time to go to downstairs to do the laundry tonight."

The girl nodded, as she bit into the crusty, buttered toast, just as her Father raced into the room, carrying a briefcase. The auburn haired woman, turned to face him and laughed.

"Don't panic, you've got thirty minutes yet!" the woman giggled," It only takes five minutes to walk to the University."

"Why's Daddy in such a rush?" Lillian asked, through a mouthful of food.

"Oh, it's Daddy's first day as a Professor," the woman told her six year old daughter," And soon, we'll have a lot more money. We'll move out of this clammy, little flat and into a proper house, with a garden!"

The woman pinched her daughter's nose and the girl squealed in return.

"Will we be able to paint my bedroom?" Lillian asked- since their flat was rented, they were unable to decorate any of the bedrooms.

"We certainly will. What colour would you like?" the woman asked.

Lillian thought for a moment, before replying.

"Purple."

"Purple it is, then," the woman smiled, then turned back to her husband," Go on then, off to work you go."

The man shook his head and smiled, giving both his wife and daughter a kiss on the forehead, before leaving the flat.

"Bye, Daddy!" Lillian called, after him.

Again, the woman laughed and shook her head- making her red curls bounce up and down. She turned back to her daughter, who had just finished her breakfast.

"Come on, love. Let's get you to school, too. I can't be late for work today," the woman remarked.

"Why not?" The girl asked, curiously, getting down from her seat and picking up her rucksack, which sat on the side of the kitchen from where her Mother had packed her lunch.

"Oh, we're running a very important experiment today," the woman replied, picking up the car keys and heading for the door.

Lillian sighed, she didn't enjoy her Mother's lectures about 'the world of science'. She found it all very boring, as any child her age would. As the woman babbled on, the two followed the stairwell, down to the bottom of the building and went outside. The door clicked as the woman turned the key in the red car, parked just outside and then they drove off to Lillian's school.

The journey to the school was no more than two minutes, and so the red mini was soon parked by the school gates. A crowd of children ranging from the ages of five to eleven, were making their way through the school gates, and into the small school building. The bell from the top of the school began to chime, so Lillian's Mother let her out of the car and took her into the playground. Teachers began to stand outside their classrooms, waiting for the students to make their way into the classrooms and the children all dressed in the school uniform, ran into their classrooms.

"Okay, poppet, Auntie Brenda's going to pick you up from school today, because both me and your Father are finishing work late," the woman explained, bending down towards her daughter.

"Okay," the girl replied, nodding her head.

"Be good for her and Uncle Clark, okay?"

"And, Luke."

"And, Luke," the woman agreed," Now, off you go to school. Be good."

"I will," Lillian promised," Goodbye, Mummy."

"Goodbye, love!" the woman called after her child.

Smiling to herself, the woman watched her daughter, until she disappeared from sight.

**AN: I can't help but cry writing this. I really can't. **

**Really, really, I can't. :'(**

**Tell me what you think! ;)**

**Anastasia. D X**


	3. Hello

**AN: Been ages since I updated! :/ sorry! But I got drowned in homework, went away for the weekend, got sick, had a birthday, then got sick again. Now I'm updating. So smile :) (Like that)**

**Now cry at**** this sad chapter. (I'm so mean.)**

**XOXOXOX**

**Song for this chapter: Hello by Evanescence (again, strangely fits)**

Chapter Three, Hello

"I'm sorry, she's been through a lot," Hershel apologised- not feeling the least bit of guilt-, through his clenched teeth.

"I understand the situation at home," the woman replied, stubbornly," But that is no excuse for a child of Lillian-Marie's age to act this way and have her grades this low. Also, her grades were this abysmal, before she lost her Mother."

"I beg your pardon..." Hershel stuttered, standing up from his seat. He glared at his daughter's teacher, as his anger rose.

The woman, though clearly much more frail, seen as she was a middle aged woman, didn't show the least bit of fear. Instead, she stood up and pushed her thin-rimmed glasses, further up her nose, framing her dark, green eyes, which glared back at him like an eagle. She straightened her green skirt, which clung to her skinny figure and pulled her black blazer further around her; never losing eye contact with the parent. As she'd been a teacher for nearly fifteen years, she'd had to deal with situations like this a lot. Sometimes it was as if it didn't even bother or effect her. Maybe even the students meant nothing to her, just her pay cheque.

"Our situation isn't just as simple as you seem to realise," Hershel carried on," This isn't something like, her pet's run away, or a friend has moved away."

The teacher opened her mouth to speak, but decided against her words. Though she wasn't quite bullied, she didn't even have someone in the class who the teacher would class as Lillian's friend. Each breaktime, she would look out of the staffroom window and see the six year old, brunette walking around the playground alone, not even trying to speak to the other students, or any of the other teachers or dinner ladies on lunchtime.

"I am aware that..." the teacher began.

"Lillian is six years old! And she has to deal with the fact that she will never see her Mother again!" Hershel yelled, his harsh, dry voice, echoing throughout the classroom.

"Mr Layton!" The teacher snapped," Do you mind? I have called you in to discuss your daughter's behaviour issues, I would be very grateful if you would co-operate with me."

"I'm only here to talk about the wellbeing of my daughter," Hershel replied, spitefully, sitting back in the seat," I have been aware that Lillian has been having behaviour issues in class, but she's just a slow learner. Whatever Lillian has done, I'm sure she didn't mean to do it. Are you sure it wasn't an accident?"

"An accident?" the middle-aged woman, laughed, taking her seat behind her desk again," What your daughter did was most definitely _not _an accident."

The man gritted his teeth back together, and kept them hard together. He didn't like the woman talking about his daughter like this and he could feel he was about to snap again. He knew though, that he shouldn't. It wouldn't have been what Claire would have wanted and he had to stay strong for her. Lillian still wasn't fully aware what was happening and so, she'd grown confused. He didn't want to admit it, but he highly doubted that Lillian had accidently done whatever had caused him to be called in. As any child would be in her situation, no matter about their grades or personality, they would be easily provoked. Still, his daughter's teacher had no right to speak about his daughter in the tone she had used.

"May I ask, what she did?" Hershel asked, in such a slow way that it was like it pained him to ask.

"Certainly. Your daughter was told to stop painting, when the art lesson had finished. The first time, she ignored me, the second she refused and the third, she threw a tantrum," the teacher answered.

"That's all? She threw a tantrum?" Hershel questioned, growing even more irritated.

"It took two teaching assistants to hold her down," the teacher informed the man," She wouldn't stop screaming and kicking and she even tried to bite one of the members of staff."

"Well, I..." Hershel tried to say," I apologise for Lillian's behaviour. I will speak to her about her this incident and she will be punished. However, I did inform the school today, that she's going to go and stay with her godparents this Saturday for possibly many weeks. And since her godparents live the other side of London, she will not be going to school whilst she is staying with them."

"I'm sorry, Mr Layton," the teacher frowned," But I do not think that that is a a particularly good idea. Lillian's literacy and numeracy skills are equal to a child that has been at nursery for half a term. Do you really think taking her out of school for that amount of time will help?"

"Of course not. But right now, I do not believe that her intelligence is the most important thing I need to be considering. She doesn't fully understand about what has happened to her Mother and so she can't concentrate in her lessons. Perhaps some time away will help her and when she comes back, her academic ability will have increased. Personally, I think it will do _my _daughter good."

"Well, it's not my place to judge or interfere, but I have a right as your daughter's teacher to offer my opinion on her wellbeing and education."

"No, it certainly isn't your place," Hershel muttered," Thank you for informing me about Lillian's behaviour today, and again, I apologise for it."

The man stood up from his seat, and with a nod, left the room and made his way down the dull corridors, out of the small, school building, into his car and back to what was left of his home.

_~~Lillian~~_

"Am I in trouble?" Lillian asked her godmother, as the two walked through the park.

"No, sweetheart, you're not. However, what you did was wrong," the woman answered," Lillian, I know you're upset, but why exactly did you try and _bite _one of your teachers?"

"I don't like her," Lillian replied, shrugging, picking a leaf of a tree and pulling it apart.

"Lillian..." her godmother warned," Things would be a lot easier if you just told me the truth."

"Fine," Lillian sighed, throwing the remainders of the leaf on the floor," I was just upset. And one girl, Penelope Flicker, said that I was stupid and that Mummy had runaway because she didn't love me and was upset to have me as a daughter."

"She said what?!" the elder brunette exclaimed," How old is this girl?"

"My age; she's in my class. Then, the teachers kept telling me to stop painting, but I didn't want to and..."

"And, so, you took your anger out on someone else," the woman finished for her god-daughter," Which you shouldn't have done."

"So, should I have taken it out on Penelope?" Lillian asked, innocently.

"Of course not," her Godmother shook her head and laughed slightly, before taking a seat on the grass beneath her.

"Why not? I was angry with her," Lillian pointed out, taking a seat beside her female role model.

"Because... it wouldn't be right."

"How?" the young girl wondered aloud, fiddling with the hem of her grey skirt," Was it right for her to say those things to me?"

"Of course it wasn't! However, you should have gone to your teacher, not take it out on anyone- not even this Penelope girl."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Lillian said, sheepishly.

"Oh, love, it's not your fault, just... be good from now on. And if that girl ever says anything like that to you again, tell your teacher."

"Okay," the young girl muttered, then turned away and studied the park.

Her blue eyes stared at the families picnicking in the park, spread across mats, surrounded by desserts and fruit. Small children- smaller than Lillian- were running throughout the trees and kicking footballs to each other, whilst adults sat down in the shade of the trees, reading newspapers or novels- some where even asleep. What caught Lillian's attention, was a young girl, about her age, who was on the pavement weeping painfully. A second later, a woman, who looked quite like her own Mother, came running over to where the child was and began to soothe her. Watching the woman nurse the girl and calm her down, only reminded Lillian of her own Mother. Her Mother who she hadn't seen for two weeks now.

"Auntie Brenda?" Lillian said, looking at her Godmother, who was looking through her handbag for something.

"Yes, love?" the woman said, not looking up from her bag.

The girl stopped; unsure what to say. She'd been noticing that things had been strange ever since her Mother had left, but she knew there was more than just her Mother's odd disappearance which was troubling the family. There had to be something else, a secret of some type. They'd all said that her Mother couldn't come back, but Lillian was sure she would. Only when she had told her Father that she knew that her Mother was coming back, he simply turned away, like it pained him to see his daughter this way. And so, she'd considered not speaking about it, but it was hard not to. And with so many questions running through her mind, she couldn't stop herself from questioning things.

"Mummy's not going to come back, is she?" Lillian whispered, reluctantly.

Her Godmother looked up at her for no more than a second, before sighing and looking up at the sky, as if she was looking for something. A swarm of birds flew across the blue blanket, but that was all. There was nothing else to see. The woman sighed again, in exactly the same stressed and unsure tone as before, then looked back down, giving off a sad smile.

"No," she shook her head," No, love, she isn't."

The words were said contently, but as they were spoken, both the brunettes felt a pang in their chests. The elder one, because she had to tell the closest thing she had to a daughter that her Mother would never be coming back. And Lillian? Because she'd heard the truth.

_~~ Two Weeks Ago~~_

The school bell rang and echoed throughout the building. Seconds later, the corridors flooded with herds children aged between six and eleven, came running out of the classrooms and the corridors flooded with herds children. In amongst the crowds, Lillian was pushed into the walls by children her own age and others. Knowing she wasn't strong enough to fight her own way through, the young brunette stood against the wall, waiting for the crowds to disappear.

Once the crowds disappeared, Lillian made her way down the corridor and out into the school playground, where parents were waiting to pick up their children. Carefully, Lillian scanned the playground for her Godmother and soon spotted her, standing under the tree waving friendlily. Lillian smiled and rushed over to her.

"Hello, love. Are you alright?" the woman asked, looking down at the six year old," Are you ready?"

Eagerly, Lillian nodded. She didn't like school. Not many children did, but Lillian completely hated it. She never told her parents how horrid she found school, but both her Father and Mother had noticed how, unlike every other child, Lillian had never asked to invite someone round her house, or have been invited. A parents evening at the end of the last term had confirmed their suspicions when her teacher said that she was a quiet, unsocial girl. However, they were certain that things would improve as their daughter grew older.

"Come on then," Brenda said, stretching out her hand to take Lillian's.

"Are we going the way past Mummy's work?" Lillian asked, taking her Godmother's hand.

"Yes, we are," Brenda answered, as the two began to walk across the playground.

They left the gate's and walked down to where the Triton's black mini was parked and climbed in. They drove down the busy London roads, singing along happily to the radio. But as they came towards Gressenheller's Science Faculty, their out of tune singing faded into nothing.

The two brunettes looked up at the building, which had once been seven storeys high. Now, it barely had one floor. Lumps of cemented bricks had been thrown across the street, blocking of the roads and so, fifteen- at the very least- cars were sitting stationary in the middle of the street. The passengers had either gotten out to look at the devastating scene or stayed in their cars, terrified. Three ambulances and two police cars were lined up at the nearest safe space, men and women in neon green jackets were darting across the road, shouting for others to come and help, tending to injured people and some were lifting stretchers covered in thick, white blankets into the back of ambulances.

Above them, a dark, eerie, black cloud of ashes hovered above them like something out of a horror story. Flakes of dust and more ash floated down from the sky, in a gentle breeze and settled on the roads like a version of snow, which everyone feared. Loud cries of the injured echoed throughout the scene, taunting those who too, were in pain and those who had already gone. The smell of burnt metal danced through the misty air with the smoke, creating a suffocating stench.

Brenda's eyes scanned the area in search for one face: Claire's. She caught sight of a bright, auburn head of hair, lying three feet away from where the building had originally stood. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she clasped her hand to her mouth, to stop her screaming.

"Lillian, stay in the car," she instructed, before jumping out of the car and running off to where the woman with the auburn hair lay.

A policeman jumped in the way to stop her, but she simply pushed him out of the way. This was her friend, a girl's Mother and so alive. There was no way that this incident- whatever it was- could have taken Claire's life. She was so young; twenty-seven. As Brenda sprinted towards the body, she prayed it would be someone else. Anyone, but Claire.

But it wasn't anyone else. Lying in a pile of rubble, with blood streaked across her head and her face drained, was Claire Foley.

**AN: Is it just me? Or is anyone else crying?**

**Constructive criticism appreciated! Please review and let em know what you think!**

**Anastasia. D X**


	4. Leave Out All The Rest

_AN: Hello guys'n'gals! This is the penultimate chapter! :)_

_Don't worry, the sequel will come soon after! :)_

_Please leave a review if you read! X_

_Song for this chapter: Leave out all the rest by Linkin Park_

**Whoops, looks like I messed up a bit. Some parts of this are meant to be in the present tense. Sorry, just pretend it is, okay? X**

Chapter Four, Leave Out All The Rest

"How long am I coming to stay with you for?" Lillian asks her Godmother, looking up at her whilst she puts on her black shoes. .

"A few weeks or so, love," her Godmother replies," But we'll have lots of fun."

"But, Mummy won't be there," Lillian tells her.

"No," Brenda says, shaking her head, softly," No, she won't."

"But we can still have fun?"

"Of course we can. We can have lots of fun," Brenda smiles.

The young girl nods, smiling more than she has done in two weeks. She picks up the brown satchel, which is full with clothes, beside her and clutches an old, moth-bitten teddy, close to her chest. It was made by her, when Lillian was a baby. And she'd never gone to sleep without it, not once. Now that she knows her Mother isn't coming back, she won't let go of the soft toy, even though it's missing an eye and it's arms wet from where the girl's been chewing it, she doesn't want to lose it. She won't even let anyone else touch it.

"But, you can call me anytime, Lillian," her Father says from behind her.

Lillian turns around to face her Father and gives him a big smile, before running into his embrace. The man chuckles as he wraps his arms around his daughter's small figure. He lets go and bends down to look at his daughter. He doesn't want her to leave, he needs her; now, more than ever. His wife has already gone, but unlike her, Lillian won't be gone forever. She'll only be a phone call away and he'd be able to visit her anytime the either of them wanted.

But still, it doesn't feel like it's enough; it isn't enough. He needs his daughter with him every second of every day. He can't afford to lose her too. Having her in his arms forever isn't enough, so how will he be able to cope this way? He doesn't know, however, he does know it's the right thing to do. It will help both of them if Lillian spends sometime away. It will help him grieve and get used to life without Claire and it's better for Lillian to not see that. And maybe some time away will help her understand things.

He knows that because Lillian's still very young she doesn't understand where her Mother is. She's too innocent to grasp onto the fact that there can be nothing. But maybe her young age plays to an advantage. Doesn't it mean that her memories will fade as she gets older? Maybe by the time she understands death, the only time she'll think about her Mother is when she dreams? Perhaps this means her Mother's premature death won't haunt her life forever.

"Bye, Daddy," Lillian says.

"Be good, dear," he tells her and she nods.

"Come on then, Lillian. Let's get in the car," Brenda says from the doorway.

After a quick kiss from her Father, Lillian runs out of the front door and to the hallway. The man watches his daughter bolt out of the flat, excited at the prospect of staying with her godparents and smiles while a tear runs down his cheek. He promised himself he wouldn't cry, he's been doing far too much of it lately, but it's hard not to. And, surely, crying over your daughter isn't a crime? Brenda smiles at her friend and he smiles back.

"You're still bringing her to the funeral tomorrow, aren't you?" the man checks.

"Of course. She may not understand what's going on, but she needs to be there," Brenda replies.

"I agree," the man nods," Take care of her, won't you?"

"It won't be forever, Hershel. Six weeks at the most. But of course we will," she replies. There's a moment of silence before Brenda speaks again," You know, I wouldn't be doing this, if I didn't think it would help you both."

"I know," he smiles," Thank you."

"You're welcome," Brenda smiles, as she leaves the flat and follows the young girl down the stairs.

Claire isn't the victim in all of this; she's resting in an eternal bliss. And it isn't the ones left alive either, well not all of them at least. Hershel had his time with his wife, he loved her. Her death wasn't a punishment, it was just an accident -it's too sad to be fate. It's Lillian. It's Lillian who's the victim. She's the one who has to live on, knowing that the person she loved the most, and who loved her the most, is gone.

**AN: Sorry it's so short! But this had no time jump/memory things in. **

**So, when I next update this story will be finished!**

**At it will be Claire's funeral, so expect to cry! … I'm never saying that again.**

**Please leave a review!**

**And vote for Lilly on my poll, for best OC by me :) **

**Anastasia. D/ Nikki XXX**


	5. Misguided Ghosts

**AN: Thank you to all the people who have read and reviewed throughout this story.**

**The sequel **_Old and New Faces _**should be out soon- which is about Spectre's Call/ Last Specter. **

**Also, there is going to be a multi-chapter of **_Bullies _**in **_Lillyesque _**which was originally going to be a separate story, but it doesn't really need to be, seen as the separate stories are based on the games. **

**It would mean a lot if you guys read it- and even better: review! **

**Get the tissues ready, guys! X**

_Song for this chapter: Misguided Ghosts by Paramore_

Chapter Five; Misguided Ghosts 

Lillian stares at her reflection in the mirror. Black; it is an ugly colour. Her Godmother had said that it was traditional to wear black at funerals. But Lillian's only reply was 'What's a funeral?'

It is a hard thing to describe to a child of Lillian's age. She's never been to a funeral before, and now she'll have to go to her Mother's. For a ceremony that should be brought on subtly, it is a sudden and unpleasant shock. Many children don't go to funerals until they're in their early teens, but Lillian's Father and Godparents felt as if they couldn't keep her away from this. It is the day where she would say goodbye to her Mother for the final time and though no one so young should have that pain, it's the least they can do to save her from more pain, when she is older.

Lillian runs her fingers through her dark, chocolate coloured hair. Her Godmother had brushed it carefully; not a single knot is left. She tugs at the dress, as she pulls it down in hope it will cover the hole, which is slowly growing on the right leg of her tights, just above her knee. Lillian looks at her bare arms- the dress only comes up to her shoulders- and it's a cold day outside, it was raining earlier too. Not wanting to be caught in the chilly air, Lillian opens up the wardrobe which stands alone in the corner of her Godparents' spare bedroom and rummages through. She's tempted to pull out a purple cardigan; her Mother always said it looked best on her, but Auntie Brenda had said to wear black.

Sighing, Lillian takes out the black cardigan and puts it on, doing up the buttons carefully. Then, she turns back to the mirror. With all the black, she's reminded of a vampire in a story that her Mother had told her when she'd requested a 'scary' story. To be truthful, Lillian hadn't found the story at all frightening, but now she felt she could relate to the story very well. All the vampire had wanted was a friend, but no one would go near him because they were scared. All Lillian wants is her Mother, but she won't come back because of something someone did- for all Lillian knows, it could be her.

"Are you ready, love?" her Godmother asks, popping her head around the door.

Lillian turns and nods, as she gives a weak smile.

"What will happen today?" the young brunette asks.

"Well," the woman begins, letting herself into the room and taking a seat on the linen sheets, on the bed," First, we'll go to your home and then we'll go outside and wait for a special car, which is called a hearse , will drive down the street with your Mother's coffin. Then we'll walk behind the hearse from your house to the church, where we'll sing some hymns and the Vicar will read a few bible passages. Then, we'll go out to the graveyard of the church and your Mother's coffin will be buried. After that, we'll come back here for a special party, which is called a wake."

"A party?" Lillian asks, puzzled, joining her Godmother on the side of her bed.

"Yes, a party," she replies," Only, it may be a bit different to the parties that you go to normally, we'll all sit down and talk about your Mother and what she was like. But, sweetheart, if at anytime during today you're upset, you just say the word and I'll take you away from the ceremony. And, you don't have to go if you don't want to. I can stay here with you if you would prefer that."

"No," Lillian shakes her head," I want to go."

"Okay," the elder brunette smiles sympathetically, blinking back the tears," Well, if at anytime you do want to leave, just say."

"Okay."

-X-

"Who will be walking behind the horse?" Lillian asks, breaking the silence that the car was in, as it drove to Gressenheller.

"The _horse_?" Lillian's Godfather queries, looking at her in the rear view mirror, from the front of the car.

"Yes, that," Lillian nods, certain. She can see the top of her Godfather's head and the hazel hair sprouting, thickly from the top of his head. The young child could just see the corner of his blue eyes from the seat in the back of the car," What Auntie Brenda said we'd walk behind on the way to the church."

"Oh, you mean the _hearse_," the man corrects," Well, there will be you and your Father at the front, then your Mother's side of the family will be behind you and people like me and Auntie Brenda; friends of your Mother, will be at the back."

"But _who_?" Lillian pushes.

"Your grandparents- your Mother's parents, that is. People she worked with, other people in her family. Most people who knew her will be, love, really," Brenda tells her.

"So a lot of people?" Lillian asks.

"Well, your Mother certainly did touch a lot of lives," Brenda smiles although tears are glistening in her eyes.

Suddenly, a sharp screech echoes throughout the busy streets. A green Mercedes comes zooming down the road and round the roundabout. Lillian's Godfather, quickly stomps down on the brakes, causing another shriek to infiltrate the air. The car that Lillian and her godparents are in, jumps to a halt, as it rocks down to it's front and back again, like a baby learning to walk.

"Bloody hell! Watch where you're going! Were your trying to get us killed?!" the man yells, filled with rage, even though the green Mercedes is now far out of sight.

"Clark!" Brenda scolds, sharply glaring at her husband. Noticing her goddaughter's face in the back seat, she lowers her voice into a harsh whisper," Clark, be careful with what you say! Lillian can hear you perfectly well, even without you raising your voice!"

Struck with guilt, Clark clears his throat as he starts the car up again.

"Sorry about that, Lillian," Clark apologises.

Lillian doesn't reply for a while, she hasn't moved since her Godfather said one word: _killed. _

"Did a car kill Mummy?" Lillian asks, slightly nervous. Every time she's mentioned anything about her Mother everyone seems to always act strange around her. As if they're confused or frightened. But she needs to know. She doesn't know and it's been hurting her. Just because she's small, she shouldn't have to have secrets kept from her.

"No," Brenda replies, from the passenger seat, Lillian can't see her face, but she knows how she's feeling," No, love, she didn't."

"What was it then?" Lillian asks.

"An accident."

That's all they say. They know the truth, but Lillian's too young. Maybe she will be forever. Or maybe one day she'll find out. And if it does, will it leave a scar on her for the rest of her life? Or will her memories of her Mother be so lost, that she doesn't believe the story. After all, even Clark and Brenda struggle to believe the story, there has been so little coverage of such a big story in the media.

But it was true. Claire had attempted the impossible. And this had been her price.

-X-

_Here lies_

_Claire Foley-Layton_

_15.04.1928-16.10.1995_

_Loving Wife, Mother and Friend_

_May She Be One Day Reunited _

_With Her Loved Ones_

Everyone had left, but Lillian hadn't yet noticed. She just stood there, in the drizzling rain and bitter wind, staring at her Mother's grave. She couldn't read what the stone said, but she didn't need to. This is where her Mother is, she doesn't need words to remember her by, she has her own memories. Words can't make her remember her smile, nor can they give her the warm feeling Lillian would get when she ran into her Mother's embrace. Only memories could do that.

There was a light hand, gently placed on the young girl's shoulders. She wasn't surprised, she was too deep in thought, but she did feel it. She turned round and looked up at the kind smile, which was looking down at her. The face with the smile was wearing a top hat, a brown one, with an orange ribbon around the middle- she recognised it. Her Mother had bought it the Saturday before her Mother had gone.

"Daddy?"

**AN: I hope you liked this story!**

**The sequel will be up soon! I hope you guys will read it!**

**Please leave a review! X**


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